


Truth

by ekb112



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love, Love, M/M, Space Husbands, Unrequited Love, shameless fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-13
Updated: 2014-03-13
Packaged: 2018-01-15 13:03:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1305808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ekb112/pseuds/ekb112
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim and Spock are being annoying, so McCoy and Uhura lock them into a room so they can finally figure things out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Truth

**Author's Note:**

> Shameless fluff all around!

Jim bangs angrily against the door of his quarters. He’s not quite sure how Bones and Uhura pulled it off, but he has been successfully locked into his own room with none other than Spock. He’s tried everything to get out, from using his override code to actually replicating a goddamn crowbar to pry the door open, but nothing’s working. “Let us _out_ , Bones!” he growls angrily.

“No way, kid!” Bones shouts from the other side of the door. “You two aren’t coming out of there until you’ve talked this out. You’re driving everyone up a wall.”

Jim tries his override code again, only to be answered with a computer’s automated voice informing him that the cypher is incorrect. He bangs once more on the door for good measure. “There’s _nothing_ to talk about,” he insists. “Spock and I are fine, so let us the fuck out of this room. That’s an order!”

“Sorry, Captain!” he hears Uhura say.

Aggravated, Jim sinks down to the floor, brings his knees up to his chest and leans his head back against the door. He blinks once before aiming his gaze directly at Spock.

Spock is sitting on the edge of Jim’s bed, the picture of absolute poise. He remains unmoving and seemingly emotionless—something that irks Jim to his core, because dammit, Spock should be more upset about this than he is.

“How are you not more pissed off?” Jim asks, annoyed.

Tilting his head to the side, Spock asks, “Captain?”

Groaning, Jim drags a calloused hand across his face. “They locked us in here,” he grumbles. “And what? You’re not even slightly put off by it?”

Spock raises an eyebrow. “It is illogical to harbor negative emotions toward a situation we have no control over, Captain.”

Jim rolls his eyes, keeping them pointed at the ceiling for a moment before bringing his gaze back down. “Of course it is.”

They sit in silence for long moments after that. This is the absolute last thing that Jim needs to be happening right now. Because honestly, none of this should have ever happened. Jim had been keeping his secret. No one knew but him and Bones, and he had damn well planned to keep it that way. But then of course, their most recent away mission had to get screwed up, of course he had to be injected with some sort of truth serum that caused him to admit his undying love for his XO, and of course since that happened they were avoiding each other like the goddamn plague. Of course, of course, of-fucking-course.

 

~ _Two Weeks Earlier~_

“ _Bones_ ,” Jim griped, pulling the IV from his arm. “I don’t think I’m gonna do anything stupid!” He smiled brightly at the CMO.

“Exactly. You don’t _think_ you are, which means that you _are_ ,” McCoy scolded. “Jim, whatever those Ortoc bastards hit you with was some powerful stuff. We’re still running tests on the drug and we don’t know the full psychological effects it could have yet. You’re better off waiting down here until we get everything figured out.”

Jim crossed his arms and gave a scowl. “No way,” he protested. “You think I’m gonna stay here so you can go all hypo-happy on me? No thanks.”

“Dammit Jim,” Bones groaned. “I’m not gonna go ‘hypo-happy’–whatever the hell that means. It’d just be smart of you to stay put until we get the whole mess sorted out. Your shift can be covered, and besides, rest would be beneficial.”

Jim snorted. “Beneficial? You sound like Spock. Oh! Spock,” he smiled, a warm feeling curling low in his belly. “I love Spock.”

“Jesus, Jim, lower your voice! You want the whole damn crew to find out?” McCoy growled, his tone hushed.

Jim shook his head. No. He did not want the whole crew to find out. He only wanted one person to know. The one person he really couldn’t tell. Jim looked up to see Bones frowning at him. “Where’s Spock?”

“The hobgoblin wouldn’t leave until he was assured that ‘the Captain’s state of affairs were most stable, Doctor,’” McCoy rolled his eyes. “When he was sure you were fine, I told him to take a hike. He was taking up space in my sickbay.”

“Okay, so where is he?”

Bones groaned again. “Dammit Jim, I’m a doctor, not a private investigator. He’s probably in his quarters doing some weird Vulcan voodoo.”

Jim smiled at the idea of Spock meditating. He loved it when Spock was in that peaceful state. Sometimes if he was lucky, he could smell the incense coming through the door of their shared bathroom while he worked in his own quarters. Jim perked up as an idea ran through his mind. Maybe if he could get there quick enough, he could find Spock meditating. He hopped down from the biobed he sat on and gripped McCoy by the shoulders. “Bye Bones!” He chirped, and then he was gone.

“Jim!” he heard being called after him. “Wait, we still don’t know the effects of—”

Jim was happy when the door to medbay closed swiftly behind him to cut off the voice of the doctor. Free of McCoy’s hypo-clad clutches, he wound his way through the corridors quickly and easily. He knew his ship like the back of his hand, and when he reached the turbolift, he entered in the command to take him to crew quarters without even having to look at the control panel.

The ride was quicker than he thought it’d be. He had no sooner left the turbolift than he found himself standing outside of the First Officer’s quarters, chiming at the door. When Spock’s slim figure appeared in the threshold, Jim gave a lopsided smile and felt his heart kick up a notch. Spock was wearing his Vulcan meditation robes, but to Jim’s disappointment, he couldn’t smell any of the typical aroma that went with it.

Spock visibly relaxed upon realizing who his visitor was. “Captain,” he nodded in greeting. “Are you well? I find I am somewhat surprised that the doctor did not keep you under his supervision for a longer duration of time.”

“Yeah,” Jim grinned, clapping Spock on the arm. “I’m fine. Can I come in?”

Nodding, Spock turned to the side to allow space for Jim to slip by him into the room. He was immediately hit with a wave of incredible heat, something that still shocked him, despite how often he went into Spock’s quarters. It had taken him months to convince Spock that he really didn’t _need_ to have the temperatures lowered when he visited.

“Was I interrupting your meditation?” Jim asked, gesturing to the robes Spock wore.

Spock shook his head. “Negative, Captain. I completed my meditation two-point-three hours ago, and simply have yet to change attire.”

Jim frowned, suddenly saddened although not quite sure why. “Oh,” was all he said.

Spock seemed to pick up on the sudden deflation in his mood. “Is there a problem, Sir?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Trying his best to smile, Jim waved him off. “Nah,” he shrugged. “I just like it when you meditate, is all.”

“Captain?”

Jim laughed and paced closer to Spock, reaching out. “I like it when you meditate,” he repeated, a whisper this time. He let his hand trail along the Vulcan’s forearm which tensed beneath the touch. “I like the smell of the incense. And I like that you can focus so intently on one thing, y’know?”

“Captain. Jim—” Spock started.

“I like that, too. I like it when you call me Jim instead of just ‘Sir’ or ‘Captain,’” Jim said, smiling. “It’s special when you say it. You make lots of things special, Spock. Sometimes I wish I could understand how you do it, but other times I like that there’s mystery to you. You’re a puzzle that I have to constantly solve. But it’s a good kind of puzzle. Like a challenge. You’re challenging. It’s part of the reason I’m in love with you.”

The second the last words escaped his lips, something snapped and Jim was brought right back into himself. It was with horror that he realized what he’d just said. He clapped his hand over his mouth as if that would protect him from saying something else. Spock stood completely still as he stared at Jim with wide eyes.

“ _Shit_ ,” Jim hissed. “Oh, _shit_. Spock, I—um, I. Oh my god. I’m sorry. Fuck. I’m so sorry. Just forget I said anything, okay?” He didn’t wait for the Vulcan to speak. In three strides he was out the door. He needed to go somewhere. Anywhere but there. Anywhere where Spock wasn’t.

He found himself headed toward the Observation Deck, needing nothing but the peace that the stars offered. Certain he was alone, he took out his communicator and punched in the code to reach Bones. “Kirk to McCoy,” he said stiffly.

“Hey kid,” Bones returned from the other end. “I was just about to comm you. We got the tests back and figured out what the Ortocs drugged you with. We should’ve seen it comin’ since their race is based entirely on honesty, but the bastards hit you with some sort of—”

“Truth serum?” Jim finished for him.

“Yeah,” McCoy huffed. “How the hell did you know...? Wait. Dammit, Jim! Please tell me that you didn’t.”

Jim squinted and pinched the bridge of his nose. He nodded his head despite the fact that no one could see him. “Oh yes,” he muttered. “I absolutely did.”  


~ _Now~_

Jim looks up from the floor and glances at Spock.  They’ve been sitting in silence the entire time, and the Vulcan hasn’t so much as moved from his position on the bed. Jim’s antsy though, so he’s been getting up to pace the room every couple of minutes.

How could he have been so stupid? God. And really, it’s his own damn fault, because he’s the one that _wanted_ to go planet side before Communications had even fully briefed him on what to expect from the new race. He knew better, hell, _knows_ better, and yet he somehow manages to put himself in these situations time and time again.

He looks at Spock again and cringes. They haven’t spoken in two weeks. Aside from their shifts on the bridge, all communication between them has stopped. Jim frowns as he thinks about just how much time he actually spent with Spock when he was off duty. Playing chess almost every night, eating meals together, briefing each other on new missions, arguing over Jim’s illogical tendencies. All of it is gone, and it’s with a rude awakening that Jim realizes just how much he misses it. He misses that connection—that link that kept them so closely tied together. He misses his friend, and it hurts. It really fucking hurts.

“How long have we been in here?” Jim asks absently. He’s stands up from the floor to pace the perimeter of the room once again.

Spock eyes him warily from his perch on the bed. “Two hours, thirty nine minutes, and twenty seven seconds,” he rattles off without missing a beat.

Jim snorts. “Thanks. That’s uh, really precise.”

He catches the Vulcan’s stiff nod from the corner of his eye. “You are welcome, Captain.”

“Jesus, Spock, we’ve been stuck in here for hours and you’re still calling me Captain? Call me Jim, would you?”

Spock raises an eyebrow and regards Jim with a look that he hasn’t witnessed before. “I fear what would happen if I did, Sir,” he says quietly.

Jim groans. He wants nothing more than to reach out and shake Spock by the shoulders. Anything that will knock some sense into him. “Okay. We can’t do this anymore,” he says, squaring his shoulders. “We’ve been avoiding each other for weeks. We’re locked in here, and clearly we’re not getting out until we talk about this. So, all cards on the table, okay?”

“Cards on the table?” Spock asks, tilting his head to the side.

“Yeah, it’s an expression, Spock,” Jim says, waving him off. “It just means I’m putting everything out there. Basically I’m just…ugh—god. I’m so sorry about everything that happened. I was never going to tell you. I wish I hadn’t. We were doing fine, and then with the whole truth serum thing I had to be stupid and screw it all up. So I apologize. Really, I’m so sorry. Can we be friends again? Maybe we can put this behind us. Forget the whole thing ever happened, you know?”

“Not that I ever could, but why would I wish to forget it?” Spock asks, furrowing his brow together.

Jim stares at him and for some reason, takes a tentative step in Spock’s direction. “Why _wouldn’t_ you wish to?”

Spock lets out a breath that’s almost a sigh. He shakes his head before standing to reposition himself closer to Jim. It’s the first time he’s moved from his seat since they’ve been locked in the room. Jim feels his breath hitch in the back of his throat as the Vulcan walks up to him. “I believe I have been in error, Jim,” he says quietly.

Jim swallows hard and does his best to ignore the lump that’s spontaneously formed in the back of his throat. “How so?”

“I did not… address you, as I should have when you informed me of your regard. I have made matters worse by keeping a certain distance from you over these past weeks. For that, I apologize, however I required the time to meditate and organize my thoughts properly. I could not be near you until I knew for certain.”

“Knew what?” Jim asks, wondering when his heart started beating a mile a minute.

“ _Taluhk nash-veh k'dular_ ,” Spock whispers.

Closing his eyes, Jim feels a hand brush against his. He knows what the words mean, a Vulcan sentiment that’s shared between bondmates. Despite the knowledge he has of the phrase, he asks for a definition anyway.

“I cherish thee,” he hears Spock say.

“I really wanna open my eyes,” Jim murmurs. “But if I open them, I’ll wake up. And I’ll realize that this is just a dream. I don’t want to wake up if it means I have to lose you.”

“Jim,” a hand on his cheek now. “This is not a dream. You will not wake up, for you are already awake. You cannot lose me. Look at me, _T’hy’la_. Open your eyes.”

Jim does, and his breath disappears because Spock is staring at him with all the love in the world. “Oh,” he says.

And then he’s lost as Spock closes the last distance between them and touches his lips to Jim’s—light, feathery and perfect. He’s not really sure who extends the kiss—not that it matters. He loses track of when their hesitancy disappears, and an overwhelming sense of _need_ replaces it.

What he does know, is that his fingers are fisted into Spock’s far-too-perfect hair, and that Spock is clinging to him as if the world depended on it. He knows that at some point, one of them finds enough courage to back them up towards the bed, and that when they lay together afterward, they’re nothing more than a trembling, sated mess of limbs and lazy kisses and touches.

“Okay,” Jim says, curling into Spock’s side. “That was definitely worth getting injected with truth serum.”

“While I desire that the circumstances were different, I admit that I am inclined to agree,” Spock murmurs into Jim’s hair.

Jim laughs at the statement, and tilts his head to look at Spock. “I love you, you know that?”

Spock nods. “I am aware of the fact,” he says, running his hand over Jim’s cheek. “However I do not mind you repeating the sentiment.”

“That’s good,” Jim says, poking a finger to the Vulcan’s green-flushed chest. “’Cause I’m gonna be telling you for forever.”

There’s an upward quirk to the corners of Spock’s mouth that sends Jim’s heart racing all over again, and he’s just on the brink of sleep when he hears, “I would expect nothing less, my Jim.”

~~

“Whaddya think?” McCoy asks, turning to Uhura, who’s seated next to him. It’s been four hours, and his ass is starting to hurt from sitting on the floor. “Venture we can let ’em out without being attacked?”

Uhura purses her lips together, weighing the possibility. “They’ve been pretty quiet for a while. We might be able to swing it.”

Nodding, McCoy flips open his communicator to send down the okay to Scotty to restore power to the door. When he and Uhura are assured that the door’s working again, McCoy types in the captain’s override code.

He and Nyota step into the room, and the second he spots them lying together, he and Uhura let out a collective groan. “Dammit, Jim!” McCoy snarls, slapping a hand over his eyes. “No one wants to see that!”

He hears Jim laugh and say, “Oh chill out, we’re only sleeping! And besides, it’s your own damn fault! You shoulda thought about this before you came barging in.”

“I concur with the Captain’s statement,” Spock says.

“Ugh,” McCoy growls. “Whatever. I work with a bunch of idiots. Took you two damn well long enough.”

“I’m happy for you guys!” Uhura chirps from his side.

“Thanks, Uhura,” Jim snorts, “Now can you guys do us a favor and get the hell out?”

As they retreat from the room, McCoy realizes that he’ll never hear the end of this, but it might be worth it, he thinks, because even though his friends are stupid, they’ll finally be happy.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed.


End file.
